


Sharing Is Caring

by BleedingInk



Series: Sharing is Caring [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Established Meg Masters/Castiel, Human AU, Multi, Open Marriage, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Slow Build, Threesome - F/M/M, meanstiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Meg and Castiel are happily yet not-so-traditionally married, and they take a liking to their new neighbor Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Is Caring

“Hold the door!”

Castiel rushed towards the elevator, his briefcase hitting against his legs as he half bounced, half ran inside. He sighed with relief, and turned to the man next to him.

“Thank you,” he said, as he pushed the button for the fifth floor. “Uh, where are you…?”

“Same than yours,” said the man, smiling. He was carrying a box, and there were several others scrambled around his feet.

“Oh, you… you’re the one who’s moving across the hall,” Castiel deduced. Yes. He now remembered Meg mentioning something about that.

“I guess I am,” he said, shrugging. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’d offer you a hand, but…”

“It’s alright. Castiel Novak.”

“Nice to meet ya.”

Castiel nodded, and then took off his glasses, cleaned them deliberately slow with the hem of his trench coat, and put them back on. All while taking a sideway glance at his new neighbor. He had short brown hair, full pink lips and bright green eyes. But what really caught Castiel’s eye where his freckles: they were all over his face, and there were even some in the edge of his hands. Castiel couldn’t help but to wonder if he’d had them elsewhere, like his back – which was broad and muscular – or even down in his…

The elevator came to a halt, cutting short Castiel’s very inappropriate train of thoughts.

“Do you need help with those?” Castiel offered him.

“No, that’s okay, man,” said Dean. “Thanks anyway.”

Castiel fidgeted with his keys and lingered on the door a couple of seconds longer than was necessary. Of course, if someone had asked him, he would have sworn on everything he held dear he didn’t do it in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Dean’s ass as he leaned down to pick up the boxes.

And in any case, no one could prove anything.

“I’m home!” he called, as he took off his coat and let the briefcase by the door.

“In the kitchen!” his wife voice came floating towards him, and Castiel couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet scent that inundated the apartment.

“Hello,” Castiel greeted her, and his smile got wider when he noticed she was wearing her favorite old lavender dress and had tied her hair in a messy bum. “Need some help, Mrs. Novak?”

“Yeah,” she answered, as she kneeled next to the oven. “Could you take out the lasagna and put it on the microwave, please?”

“You know, I met our neighbor today,” he commented, as he followed her instructions. “He’s… nice.”

Meg stood up, holding a smoking apple pie and murder in her big brown eyes. “Hands off, Clarence,” she warned him. “I saw him first.”

“Ah,” said Castiel, raising an eyebrow. “So _that’s_ what the pie is for.”

“Of course,” she said, with a shrug. “You never appreciate my cooking, anyway.”

Castiel chuckled. Nobody could tell at first sight, because theirs look so much like a conventional marriage. To the casual observer, they might even seem boring. Castiel worked long hours as a history professor at the local university, and Meg stayed home and did things like baking a pie for the new neighbor. They had a neat apartment in one of the nicest parts of town. They followed a very tight routine that included getting up early, exercise and healthy food. Every now and then they held dinner parties for some friends, who marveled at the fact they had been married almost ten years and still going strong, and asked what their secret was.

Their secret was, Meg thought conventionality was boring and Cas never cared much for what people thought.

“So you’re going to cajole him with pastry?” Castiel wrapped an arm around her waist, possessively. “Play the bored housewife?”

“You spend so much time at work,” Meg complained, as Castiel undid her bun and left some soft kisses on her neck. “It gets _so lonely_ sometimes...”

“But what if I find out?” Castiel asked, feigning outrage.

“You’re not going to find out,” Meg assured him, turning around and sitting on the counter with a wicked smirk. “We’ll be discreet. Nobody has to know…”

She lifted her dress, ever so slightly, and Castiel shook his head.

“You’re terrible,” he said, as he positioned himself between her legs.

“You wouldn’t like me so much if I wasn’t,” she replied, leaning closer to kiss him on the nose. Castiel was about to protest by kissing her until she was out of breath, but then the microwave beeped. “Oh, dinner’s ready!” Meg said, and happily jumped back to the floor, leaving her husband incredibly hot and bothered.

“Dinner can wait,” Castiel tried to hug her again, but Meg slapped his hand with the dishcloth.

“Behave, Mr. Novak,” she scolded him, but then softened her tone. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you have seconds…”

“I love you,” Castiel declared, and Meg just laughed and sent him off to the table with the cutlery.

 

* * *

 

Castiel didn’t see much of Dean Winchester the following weeks, not until he literally bumped into him on the lobby one morning, and the vision almost made him believe there was a loving God in the universe after all. Last time he had seen him, he was wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a flannel shirt, which was okay, but Castiel became convinced at that very moment no one could appreciate Dean correctly unless he was wearing a running shorts and an A-shirt. And yes, there were freckles all over his arms.

“Hey… Cas,” Dean called him. “You going for a run?”

“Yes,” said Castiel, and it was a testament to his self-control that he managed to keep his eyes up. “I run every morning, actually.”

“Cool. So do I,” said Dean, and raised his bottle of water, smiling like a little over-enthusiastic kid. “Or I’m trying to get into the habit anyway.”

How could anybody manage to be sexy as hell and cute as a puppy at the same time, Castiel couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“Well, we could run together, if you’d like,” Castiel offered him. “If you can keep up with me, that is.”

“I can… keep up,” said Dean, lamely, and Castiel openly laughed at him.

“We’ll see.”

Castiel hadn’t had a runner buddy since Meg had declared she much rather go to the gym and take the chance to socialize (when Castiel teased it was actually to meet hot girls and guys, Meg gave him a look that clearly meant well-of-course-why-else), so he welcomed the change. They would meet in the lobby every morning at seven sharp, and take to the streets chatting happily. Dean would tell him about his job at the furniture store, about his brother Sam who had just become junior partner at a law firm in California, about his car.

“I could take you and the missus on a ride someday,” he offered him once. “Just so you can hear how my Baby rumbles.”

Castiel was both mesmerized and amused the man would actually refer to his car as “Baby”. He thought that only happened in cop movies and the likes.

When they reached the park, chatting time was over. Dean was physically fit, but it still took a couple of weeks until Cas stopped leaving him behind. Not too behind, of course, because yes, he would sometimes shamelessly check Dean’s ass, and yes, he considered that the sight of him all sweaty and panting was lovely. But that wasn’t it. He had really become fond of the carefree way Dean laughed, and the way his eyes lit up when he was explaining something about wood and the best way to carve it, and how much of a sweet tooth he had.

“Your wife makes the best pie ever,” he commented once, as they went back to the building, with a delighted face that made Castiel warm around his heart.

“I wouldn’t know,” Castiel said. “I’m not much for sweet things.”

“Well, she’s a great cook,” Dean informed it. “You should appreciate it more.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow and Dean looked away while rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed. Castiel wanted to laugh and tell him he was glad he considered it that way, because it meant Meg’s undervalued housewife act was in full swing. He wouldn’t have known otherwise: Meg didn’t brag about her conquests, but the fact that Dean was still able to look him in the eye meant nothing had happened yet. Castiel was sure Dean was a decent enough guy that he would consider necessary to start avoiding him when something actually did happen, and consider for a moment to tell him about the arrangement.

But then again, maybe that would freak him out (it wouldn’t be the first time), and ruin Meg’s plans. But then Meg’s plan would ruin his friendship with and Dean and it was… just something he seriously needed to discuss with his wife.

He came home that night with that firm determination, and found Meg serving meatballs in mushroom sauce (his favorite dish) in the fancy crockery they only took out in special occasions.

“Meg?” he inquired, with a pang of worry in his stomach.

“Hello, darling!” she said, showing him her most radiant smile as she walked up to him to kiss him. “How was work?”

“Is something wrong?” Castiel asked.

“No, of course not,” Meg said, in her most cheery tone. “Glass of wine?”

Before she could escape him, Castiel put both hands around her waist and hugged her close to him.

“Talk to me,” he begged in a concerned whisper. A few seconds passed. Then, slowly, Meg turned to face him. Gone was her smile, and instead she had an expression Castiel had only seen in really bad situations, like when her mother got sick or when they had to put down their cat.

“Please, don’t be mad,” she said.

Turned out, there was this tiny little detail about their arrangement they had never discussed, because it had never crossed their minds it would happen.

“I really like this guy, Cas,” she said. She sounded like she was about to break down in tears, and Cas would have given his left arm to avoid that. “Like… really, _really_ like him. He’s funny, and charming, and I… I didn’t mean for it to happen, I just…”

Cas nodded, comprehensive. Although, truth be told, he wasn’t sure how to handle this.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

They were in the living room, because the living room was the place where they had the serious conversations. They joked in the kitchen, and flirted in the dining room, and of course fucked on the bedroom. But the living room was where they celebrated their war councils.

Meg climbed on the couch, put her head on his shoulders and curled up against him, and Cas held her tight and kissed her hair.

“It’s okay. I promise. These things happen.”

“I love you,” Meg said.

“I know you do.”

Meg let out a sound that was halfway between a giggle and a sob.

“So what do we do?” she asked.

“What we always do,” said Castiel, with a calm he didn’t feel. “We figure it out. Together.”

Meg intertwined their fingers, and sighed with relief.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Castiel was left alone on his run. He waited for Dean to show up at the lobby for almost an hour before leaving for the park. Normally, running helped him clear his mind. The rhythmic bounce of his shoes against the asphalt, the strain of his muscles; it all helped him focus and find a solution to whatever it was that was bugging him.

Today it didn’t help at all.

Back in college, when he and Meg first met, they had both already decided they didn’t care much for monogamy, and were simply elated to find someone who shared their views. Over the years, they have both had had a string of lovers on the side (some of which were aware of their arrangement, none of which had stayed longer than a few months), but their whole marriage was based on the fact that, no matter how many people they invited into their bed, there would never be anyone they liked better than each other.

And then there was Dean Winchester, with his million dollar smile, his funny stories and his lame comebacks. Sleeping with someone they found sexually attractive was one thing, but what if they felt genuine affection for that person? Meg thought it would make a difference, she wasn’t willing to risk their marriage, and Castiel loved her for it. But at the same time…

Castiel reached the hallway and was just about to search for his keys when Dean opened his door. He seemed agitated, and Castiel couldn’t help but to wonder if he had been waiting for him to show up.

“Hey, Cas,” said Dean, in his most casual tone, which sounded absolutely fake. “Sorry I left you waiting this morning. I just… I had some things… work… you know.”

Castiel concluded he indeed had been waiting for him.

“That’s alright,” he assured Dean. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Right,” Dean said. He opened his mouth, closed it again, swallowed loudly and tapped his fingers on the doorframe. Castiel waited. Finally, Dean took a deep breath and asked: “So… how… how’s Meg?”

“She’s okay,” Castiel answered, carefully.

“Really? Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Dean blurted out, nervously. “Yeah, because yesterday, she was here in my apartment, and we were talking, and just… I-I don’t know, I think I might have said something to upset her, because… listen, dude, I-I consider you a friend, and I-I would never…”

Castiel just watched him stand there and babble, and all of the sudden, he had an epiphany, and could have hit himself for not seeing the obvious solution earlier.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” he asked. Dean interrupted himself mid-sentence, and just looked so adorably confused Castiel had to resist the urge to laugh at his face.

“I… tonight? I-I mean…” Dean stuttered.

“You have other plans?” Castiel asked.

“Ye-no, actually, i-it’s Friday night,” Dean pointed. “I usually just… stay at home. Watch some TV.”

“I’m sure we can make you spend a more pleasant evening than your TV set,” said Castiel. Was he flirting? Why, he was. Also, he didn’t care. Dean changed the weight of his body from one foot to the other.

“Uh… sure,” he accepted, because Castiel hadn’t really given him much room to say no. “What time you want me there?”

“Around nine. I expect you won’t be late,” Castiel teased him.

“Right. Because I live across the hall,” Dean rolled his eyes, and for a moment, seemed to forget the reason he was so nervous. “Very funny.”

Castiel just showed him his widest smile, and entered his home to talk to Meg.

 

* * *

 

Meg spent the afternoon running to and fro between the kitchen and the dining room, swearing under her breath and cursing Castiel nonstop.

“This is all your fault,” she mumbled near eight thirty, while she hurriedly threw all of her dresses back in the closet after she discarded all of them in favor of a vaporous blouse and a skirt. “I swear, Cas, if you ever do this to me again, the divorce papers will hit you so fast you’ll need reconstructive surgery.”

Cas just nodded in silence. Meg’s fury wasn’t really complete until she threatened with divorce. He was used to that.

“You’re enjoying this, you sadistic bastard,” she complained, while she scrambled to the bathroom to put on her makeup.

“Of course not,” said Castiel, although he couldn’t deny there was a certain attractive to seeing his wife all flustered and messed up. “I’m just trying to show you we don’t need to make a big deal out of this.”

“Well, I think I’m failing spectacularly,” Meg notified him, with a hand on her hip. Castiel just laughed and walked up to her to put a lock of hair that escaped her bun behind her ear.

“Look, the fact is, Dean is a very nice man. And he is our neighbor,” he said. “We have to face this. Let’s give it a shot. I promise, if tonight doesn’t work out, we don’t have to invite him again.”

“Fine,” said Meg, with a pout. “But if I spontaneously decide we need to move a state or two away, you’re gonna go with it, no questions asked, you hear me?”

The doorbell rang before Castiel could come up with a reply, so he held a finger in the air to indicate they were going to continue with that conversation eventually, and went to answer.

Dean was standing there clutching a bottle of wine and with his green eyes wide open, like a deer in the headlights. Despite his terrified expression, Castiel noticed he had made an effort to groom himself a bit more than usual: he was wearing a white buttoned up shirt instead of the flannels he usually favored, and black dress pants instead of jeans. He looked uncomfortable and insanely attractive.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, his voice still sounding a bit nervous. “Look… I got here in time. And I didn’t even have to ask for directions.”

“I can see that,” Castiel said, receiving the wine and moving aside. “Please, come in.”

He turned around to watch Meg swiftly disappear inside the kitchen, only to emerge a minute later with a tray on her hands.

“Hey, Dean,” she greeted him, all polite and sweet, even though Castiel knew she was dying inside because that’s when she needed to hold something in her hands the most. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see too,” said Dean. And then neither of them moved or said anything else for a couple of extremely awkward seconds.

“Shall we?” Castiel asked, pointing towards the dining room with a movement of his head. He had hoped it wouldn’t, but apparently it depended on him to keep things running. Well, this had been his idea after all.

 

* * *

 

It took a couple of glasses of wine, and Castiel telling every single anecdote from the university he could remember, but Meg and Dean finally began to calm down after a while. Meg’s food was spectacular, as always, and she had made some apple pie to top it all.

“You gonna eat that?” Dean asked him, and Cas generously passed him his leftovers. “This is amazing. You’re amazing. You should sell these. You’d make a fortune.”

“I’ve been telling her that for years,” Castiel said.

“But I disagreed,” Meg reminded him. “So we voted on it.”

“And?”

“We got a draw,” said Castiel, and Dean found that hilarious, because he almost choked on his pie and somehow managed to get some jam on his cheek.

“Here, let me,” said Meg, and immediately grabbed a napkin and carefully rubbed Dean’s face with it.

That surprised Castiel. He knew how Meg was when she flirted, and there was never a thoughtless thing about it, but what she just did had been an entirely natural and affectionate gesture. He'd seen it thousandths of time when she straightened his tie before he left work or passed him a bottle of water while scolding him for not hydrating. He could tell the difference.

And that’s how he knew he’d made the right call.

By ten thirty, they had moved the reunion to the living room and taken off their shoes. Castiel couldn’t have told for sure how exactly it began, but they were all cracking up uncontrollably after Dean told a story involving his brother and a dog, and he had his head tilted back and Castiel noticed (not for the first time) the little crinkles that formed around his eyes, and maybe Castiel had had a little too much wine, but that’s when he decided that if Meg and Dean were going to keep dithering at the edge of the issue, he sure as hell wasn’t.

Dean’s last chuckles were just fading off when Castiel put both hands on his cheek and delicately pull him in for a kiss. He stiffened, and Cas was about to let go of him, when with a deep breath, Dean’s lips just relaxed and opened just a little, so Castiel could feel the taste of the wine they’d been drinking. After a few seconds, they broke apart, and Castiel could just _guess_ the smart comment Dean was about to let out, when Meg’s hand gently wrapped around Dean’s neck, and it was her turn to kiss him. Castiel moved closer to get a better view, and almost unconsciously, put a hand on Dean’s thigh. Dean answered by putting his arm around Castiel’s shoulders, at the same time the fingers of his other hand lose themselves in Meg’s hair.

“Okay,” Dean said, when Meg finally backed down, “You know, next time you guys want something, you just have to ask.”

“Oh, shut it,” Meg snapped, and Dean’s laughter was suffocated by yet another kiss.

 

* * *

 

The way to the bedroom was complicated, because none of them seem to be willing to stop touching and tearing each other’s clothes enough for them to actually move. But somehow they managed. But the time they heavily fell into bed, Castiel in the middle of the two, in a knot of limbs, and lips, and skin, he was actually surprised there hadn’t been more severe casualties than Meg’s stocking and some buttons from Dean’s shirt.

“Okay, we need to…” he began, but then Dean bit him in the neck and Meg unzipped his pants and slid a hand inside to stroke his hardening cock, and the thoughts he was trying to articulate flew out of the window. For a moment, he was tempted to let them ravish him, to indulge in that mess of heat and heavy breathing. But this wasn’t about him. “Wait,” he panted, and everything stopped immediately. Dean had a concerned expression on his face, like he thought he was the one who had done something wrong, so Castiel sat on the bed, grabbed him by the chin and kissed him.

“I’d… I’d rather just be a spectator to this, if that’s alright with you two.”

“You want to watch?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Watch up close,” Castiel specified. Meg’s mouth was hanging slightly ajar.

“Cas… you sure?”

Cas put a hand around her waist and brought her closer to him. He vaguely remembered they had abandoned her panties somewhere in the living room carpet, so she was only wearing her bra and her skirt. It took a great effort to not just shove his head underneath it and pick up again from where they left off, but he needed to let her know it was okay. It truly was.

“Yes,” he stated. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Meg analyzed his face, like she was looking for some clue that indicated he was going to change his mind, and then something seemed to click, because her frown disappeared and she exploded in a fit of giggles.

“Of course,” she said. “I should have known.”

“What?” asked Castiel, confused, and looked at Dean, who shrugged.

“You let him take your food,” Meg explained, matter-of-factly. “You don’t let anyone take your food. Except for me.”

“So is that a good thing?” asked Dean.

Meg put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him over Castiel to whisper in his ear: “It means he really likes you too,” loud enough for Cas to hear it.

And then Dean was on the other side of the bed, caging Meg with his body. It had to be the most amazing sight Castiel had actually seen. He laid on his side, taking in each and every one of their movements, the little noises they made, and how they took their time to find a middle ground: because Meg was aggressive and relentless, but Dean took his time, to remove the rest of their clothes, to lick, to explore, to touch, until she was a writhing mess.

“Will you just…?” she panted, annoyed, and when Dean grinned so smug and satisfied with himself, Cas just wanted to bury his face on his neck and kiss him until it was bruised.

So he did exactly that, as Dean moaned softly. The next second, Meg was kneeling right next to them. Cas made a move to back down, but Meg shook her head.

“Keep him busy,” she said, and then lowered her head between Dean’s thigh.

“What?” Dean asked confused, as Cas chuckled. “What is she… uh…”

Meg carefully rolled the condom over with her mouth, advancing inch by inch, torturing Dean just as much as he had tortured her before. Cas supposed the fact he was sucking on his nipples didn’t help the man’s arousal either.

“You two,” he muttered. “You two are going to kill me…”

“Hopefully not too soon,” Meg replied, and kissed him again hungrily.

Dean let himself be dragged down with her, and Castiel was left contemplating his back, which, yes, was all covered with freckles that went all the way down to his perfectly round ass. He couldn’t resist it. He started kissing them, one by one, as Dean started fucking Meg, slowly at first, but harder as she encouraged him with moans and sighs. The noise their skins made when they came into contact was downright obscene, and Castiel could have come from it alone, but then Dean, without missing a beat, reached out for Cas' dick, and started pumping it in perfect synchronization with his thrusts into Meg.

And that was it. Castiel's mind and body had been so overstimulated already he came in one long, delightful orgasm, and he had to hold on to Dean's shoulder to keep himself from falling off the bed, he was shivering _that_ hard.

"So much for seconds," Meg complained under her breath, but Dean pushed into her again, and Castiel knew by the way she arched her back and bit her lips that she was close. So he crept closer and started nibbling her ears in the way he knew she liked, and apparently that was too much for her. She wrapped her legs around Dean, demanding, and a second later she was unraveling in that marvelous way Castiel knew so well, and of course Dean wasn't too far behind. Castiel made sure to memorize the way his lips formed a perfect O, how his eyes were tearful and his skin glowed. He was gorgeous, and Meg licking the sweat from his neck was gorgeous too, and Castiel couldn't believe his luck.

This had to be, by far, the best idea he ever got.

 

* * *

 

“… he’s actually cuter when he’s asleep.”

Dean’s hoarse voice reached Castiel’s ears, but he refused to open his eyes. He was too comfortable and warm, with the weight of two heads in each of his shoulder, two different arms around his waist, and a tangle of three pair of legs under the sheets.

“Manipulative little shit,” said Meg. “He probably knew this would happen.”

“I was _hoping_ it would happen,” Castiel confessed, still not opening his eyes. “There is a difference.”

Dean’s chest rumbled with laughter somewhere to his left and Meg pinched him on the ass playfully. They stayed there, too blissful and satisfied to let anything worry them. Castiel had almost drifted back into slumber, when Dean spoke again.

“So I hate to bring this up this early, but was this, like… a onetime deal to you, guys?”

That got Castiel to actually raise his eyelids and stare at him. Then he looked at his wife, who seemed reflexive.

"'Cause it's totally okay if it is," Dean said hurriedly. "I mean I had a great time, and I wouldn't mind..."

“We should vote on it,” Meg decided.

“I vote…” said Castiel immediately, but Meg put a finger on his lips.

“No voting before breakfast,” she determined. She kicked the sheets aside and walked happily naked to the bathroom. “And if you’re getting up to help, make sure to be at least partially dressed.”

“She always like this in the mornings?” asked Dean, amused.

“You have no idea,” said Cas, shaking his head.

He wanted to stay in bed a little longer, maybe snuggle with Dean and convince Meg to join them, but he knew as soon as the coffee was ready, his wife would become a hurricane of activity. So, with a sigh, he got up too and found a pair of boxers on the floor. He was pretty sure they were Dean’s. He put them on, anyway, and turned to look at his friend, who was licking his lips in a most suspicious manner.

“You know, I’m voting yes,” he said. “If my vote counts.”

Castiel leaned to peck him on the cheek.

“Of course it counts.”


End file.
